The Dance
by Blue-10-Spades
Summary: She had been able to see and speak to the dead since she was a child. And it had never been more complicated than when the dead began to rise again and they all clambered after her to speak once more.
1. The Dance

I own nothing but this idea I had on a whim. The Walking Dead would have had a lot more Bethyl if I did own it.

"_Death is the destination we all share, no one has ever escaped it."_

_\- Steve Jobs_

* * *

Beth had always been on the cusp of life and death. From the day she had been born, her mothers umbilical cord had wrapped snugly around her frail neck, suffocating her. They had told her she almost died while she was born. That she would have died had it not been for the immediate action of the hospital staff.

She was silent as she entered the world, pulse and breath absent. But death gave way to life when a sharp cry left her little mouth, tiny lungs straining to procure air. Her dad said that he had cried when that had happened; humbled by the miracle of life that she was. And that was the beginning of Beth's dance between life and death.

.

.

.

.

"Maggie, we going to the creek today?" Little four year old Beth beamed at her older sister, showing off her two missing front teeth. It was a hot Summer's day in Georgia and people were parading in thin cotton tanks and shorts to stave off some of the heat. Even staying indoors didn't give reprieve to the hot waves of humidity that passed throughout their little town.

Maggie fanned herself languidly, sweat dripping down the nape of her neck as they sat on their front porch.

"I don't know Beth, daddy told me you're my responsibility today and I think it'd be better if we just stayed home."

"But it's hot Maggie!" Maggie sighed at the whining of her little sister. She knew that if she denied her anything at this point Beth would just putter into a ball of tears.

"You can't even swim Beth and I know you're not going to use your floaties."

Beth puffed her cheeks out mulishly, annoyed that Maggie would bring up her inability to swim. All the other kids her age could at least float but she had always struggled and having to use floaters just stung her delicate pride even more.

"I'll wear the stupid floaties if we go," She bargained softly, her desire to cool off in the creak far outweighing her embarrassment of wearing her little orange floaters. Maggie agreed readily.

The walk to the creek wasn't that far away from their house, but it was situated in the denser part of the forest. It was also a popular social spot in their town and the next town over, so it wasn't that surprising that when they got there it was already crowded with a lot of people they knew and a lot more that they didn't. Maggie spotted a group of her friends and they waved at her joyously to which she responded with equal happiness.

"Here Beth, make sure you put these on," Maggie said before unceremoniously dumping Beth's orange floaties at her feet. "I'm gonna hang out with my friends. Just holler my name if you need anything." And with that she took off.

Beth scowled at her retreating back, angry that her sister left her to herself. Feeling particularly rebellious, she decided that no, she wasn't going to put on her floaties. Walking to the edge of the creek, Beth edged one toe into the icy water and squeeled in delight at the cold sensation ran up from her toe to the top of her knee. She quickly waded in the creek until she was up to her waist.

People ran back and forth in front of her, some of them floating around serenely while others splashed water at one another. She spotted one man at the other side of the creek just sitting at the edge and scowling at everyone as he let his legs hang in the water. No one dared come by him and Beth laughed thinking that he reminded her of a disgruntled stray dog her dad had treated once.

The man turned and caught her mirthful eyes and heat immediately creeped up her face at being caught. She immediately looked away and waded farther away to escape his notice. At this point the water reached her chest and Beth decided that at this would be a good time to try floating.

And so she closed her eyes and swung to her back, arms bobbing softly next to her. She kept perfectly still, even as the water began to flow into her ears. And as minutes ticked by Beth realized that she had finally mastered floating. She couldn't quite stop the proud grin that split her face. She didn't know how long she stayed like that, just floating on her back, the gentle ripples of water swaying her back and forth. She felt serene.

That was until she could hear the frantic cries of her sister yelling her name. Jolting up in surprise it took her a second to process that she had somehow drifted to the deepest part of the creek. And in her surprise she found herself sinking, even as she desperately fluttered her arms and legs in an effort to keep afloat. Her vision sunk beneath the water where she could see Maggies little legs furiously pumping to reach her. But she was so far away and Beth choked on water that she inhaled in fear and a desperate need for air.

Her vision began to blacken around the edges, and Beth felt herself hit the floor of the creek. Looking up she saw someone dive into the water, their expression angry and disgruntled like the dog her daddy treated. And then she passed out.

* * *

_Beth… _

_Beth…_

Someone was calling her name. She couldn't see who, as it was too dark, but the voice was soft and wispy, almost carried away in the wind.

What she could see was that she was somewhere in the woods nearby her property. And in the far distance there was a small beacon of light, almost like someone was flashing a light at her. She quickened her pace, thinking that it might be Maggie. But before she could reach the light a hand snatched at her arm tearing a frightened scream right out of her.

_Beth _

_Beth_

Someone was calling her name more loudly but all she could focus on was the hand clutching her arm. Soon more hands joined, each one finding purchase on her and dragging her farther away from the light until suddenly she was drenched in nothing but darkness again.

"Beth!"

Beth bolted up quickly, water spewing its way out of her system as she coughed uncontrollably. There was an arm behind her back, steadying her into a sitting position and much too large to be Maggie's. Looking up she saw the disgruntled man from earlier, his eyes narrowed in concern and hair a sopping mess. A much older, haggard looking woman stood behind him, her face creased in a sad frown. But she wasn't looking at her, but at him. And she was saying something so softly that she strained her ears to hear her.

"Daryl," Beth repeated softly and he looked at her sharply, suspicious and she realized that was probably his name. "She says she's sorry." The woman was looking at her now, and her eyes expressed such gratitude that Beth just knew that she had done something good right then.

Before the man could open his mouth and ask who 'she' was, Maggie had thrown herself onto Beth sobbing hysterically. Thin arms wrapped around her like a vice and she felt the man calmly disentangle himself from the two sisters.

"You-you stopped breathing Beth, you stopped breathing!" Beth reached up to pat Maggie's back in an almost detached manner as a group of people began to crowd around the two young girls. The man named Daryl had retreated in the crowd and Beth watched the wings on his back as he walked away. Her small thank you was carried away in the wind.

.

_._

_._

_._

_._

_I don't want to die_

_I don't want to die_

_I don't want to die_

Beth looked to her left discreetly, frightened by the figure huddled in the corner of the hospital room. She had been climbing the old oak tree near her elementary school in an effort to impress her classmates when the branch she held onto broke. Her dad had been called to collect her and he drove them to the local clinic. Taking her in, he told her to wait with Dr. Marco while he went to grab her medicine from the pharmacy in the clinics lobby.

She broke her arm Dr. Marco told her, before leaving her alone to collect the plaster and make a cast. And that was when she noticed the boy to her left. His head was covered in so much blood, hair matted to his face and giving him a wild look. He looked to be maybe in his mid to late teens. Much older than her nine year old self.

_I don't want to die_

_I don't want to die_

_I don't want to die_

He was rocking back and forth, frightened by the thought of dying. But Beth had been able to see spirits for a while now, and she could tell that the boy was already dead. Was just a spirit who lingered because he didn't know that he already left this world. So with some effort she let herself down from the bed, careful not to jostle her broken arm, and sat next to the boy.

"Hi, there," The boy stopped mid chant and hesitantly looked to her.

"I know, you're scared right now," She spoke softly and the boy continued to just stare at her, amazed that someone could see him, let alone hear him. "But I just want to let you know that there is a better place beyond here for you."

_I don't want to die_

He repeated brokenly and Beth frowned sadly.

"We all die someday. Sometimes sooner than we want. But we can't stay where we don't belong." Tears fell from his eyes, clearing away the blood in its path and Beth hesitantly reached out to hold his hand.

"I'm Beth." The blood began to clear away, leaving only the pale features of a young brunette boy.

_John_

He said softly before he quietly faded into a soft glow of light and then disappeared.

Beth only wished that all spirits were this agreeable. Because there were those that were much less willing to leave.

.

.

.

.

.

When Beth was eleven, she discovered that she was able to see people's life energy as well as their spirits. Chakra's, aura's, or whatever people called it. She could see them. And she found that spirits that stayed on Earth acquired a grey tinge in their aura that steadily grew darker and darker the longer they lingered until there was nothing but pure black.

These spirits became twisted, and corrupted until they became angry poltergeists that hassled people of the living. These were the ones that Beth shied from because they took particular delight in harassing her. Human's carried a white light at the top of their heads, a signifier of their life. They carried a multitude of other colors throughout their body that Beth had to carefully decipher. Different shades and hues that gave her headaches for months until she finally learned how to shut that aura part of her sight down. But it was useful.

"Hey there," Beth looked up from the notebook she was writing in to a pair of sharp green eyes and pearly white teeth.

"Peyton," Beth greeted softly, recognizing her school's resident heartbreaker. The teen's smile widened and he ran a hand through his tousled raven hair. A group of his friends stood some ways behind him, not close enough to intrude but not far enough where they wouldn't be able to eavesdrop.

"Beth Greene, right?"

"That's right." She responded, growing suspicious with his question. Beth Greene wasn't by any means ugly, but she was certainly no where on Peyton's radar. Peyton lived a fast paced life of drugs, alcohol, and parties. And Beth Greene was the quiet, religious girl who rarely, if ever went to any social outings.

He shuffled closer to her, his denim clad knee brushing against her own and Beth subtly shifted her leg away. Peyton didn't seem to notice and if he did he was unaffected.

"So there's this party next weekend…and I was just wondering if you wanted to come to it." His smile was charming, too charming if Beth was honest with herself. And that was when Beth spotted it, a pink tinge to his aura, too dark to be love and too muddy to be just lust. And suddenly his charming smile seemed too sinister for her liking.

"No thanks," She said easily, once again lifting her notebook to her face. His smile fell from his face quickly.

"I—what was that?" He asked in disbelief.

"I said no thanks." A shock of red ran through his aura; anger. He huffed and then walked back to his group of friends where she could clearly hear them make fun of him.

It wasn't until next year that four girls would testify that Peyton had raped them and Beth would silently thank God for her gift of sight.

.

.

.

.

.

When the dead started to rise again, Beth wholly believed her father when he told them that it was a test from God. That these people, her family and neighbors were just sick and had no idea what they were doing. That they would find a cure for them.

But it was getting harder and harder to ignore the black aura seeping from the cracks of the barn. And the voices, the voices kept her up all night until black smudges began to creep under her bloodshot eyes. And throughout the day she would always find herself standing before the old barn, their moans and voices drowning out any rational thought.

_Food…_

_Hungry…_

_Food…_

_Kill…_

_Kill…_

_Kill… _

And then she would reach out, to do what, she never knew because Maggie or Patricia would always come across her and pull her back to the house. They didn't know about her gifts, her abilities, but they sometimes had suspicions, which was inevitable after all this time trying to keep it a secret. They didn't know that she could hear the voices of the dead, of these zombie people.

They didn't know that she shouldn't, wouldn't be able to hear them unless they were absolutely, without a doubt dead.

_Kill…_

_Kill…_

_Kill…_

_Me…_

_Kill…Me_

_Kill me._

And Beth would clutch the sheets even tighter at night, unable to fall asleep with the combination of voices and unending guilt that would consume her. Because she knew what she would have to do and she knew that it would surely break her father's heart.

"…_we can't stay where we don't belong."_

* * *

Because I felt like Beth needed some badass powers for the zombie apocalypse.


	2. The Edge

Hell nah, did I see what I saw on that bull crap MSF.

Disclaimer: I own nothing but this idea I had on a whim.

* * *

"_THE EDGE, there is no honest way to explain it because the only people who really know where it is are the ones who have gone over."_

― Hunter S. Thompson

* * *

She was standing in front of the barn again. It was never her intention to end up here, at the barn. Her feet just had a way of leading her to this spot, this same spot an arm's distance away from the padlocked doors.

The black aura saturated the whole area, rising and stretching ominously. It was a surprise that the grass didn't wilt from the positively evil energy that emanated from it.

How many new zombies did her family catch today? Two, three? Jimmy went on these little expenditures to "rescue" these walking corpses; Maggie did too. But everyone firmly kept Beth out of their escapades.

And it wasn't just because Beth was young, or because she was a girl, or even frail looking. It was because they could see something akin to madness seeping into her eyes as she gazed at the barn, her attention lingering on the lock that separated them.

They knew that Beth was close to snapping, close to doing something that they were not prepared for.

_And they were right, _She thought as her hand reach up towards the barn, fingers almost scraping against the aged wood. But then there, in her peripheral vision, she sees a flash of an aura and turns to see Maggie watching her.

"What're you doing Beth?" It wasn't playful or curious, or anything that her sister usually was with her. This was flat and almost accusatory. Like her sister knew exactly what she'd intended to do and almost couldn't believe it.

Beth swallowed dryly and sent her sister what was probably the most fakest smile she'd ever made in her life.

"Just checking to see how the lock is holding up." Her sister nodded, not in a way that implied that she believed her, but more like she would accept the answer even though she knew it wasn't true.

"Okay," Her sister said softly before walking over to grasp her hand loosely, as if Beth was made of fine glass and any small pressure would break her. And maybe her sister was right because Beth could feel herself slowly, slowly breaking down. Could feel herself standing precariously close to the edge.

_Kill me_

_Kill me_

_Beth_

.

.

.

Beth was cooking dinner with Patricia when she heard the loud scream. A young child by the sound of it. Chancing a glance to Patricia she saw that the other women had no visible reaction to the noise.

A dead child then.

One that must've just died recently and traumatically by the sounds of it. Beth hummed in the back of her throat in a noncommittal way causing Patricia to look at her curiously.

"I forgot something in the stables," She told the woman sheepishly. Patricia just smiled knowingly and shooed her out, probably thinking that the 'something' was actually Jimmy.

She quickly wiped her hands on a nearby rag and made her way to the porch. She tugged her well-worn boots on as she did and crossed through the screen door. Once outside, the crisp night air hit her and the screams grew louder. Doing a slow jog she quickly made her way to the edge of the forest and there limping around was a little girl.

Dirty and deathly pale, Beth could see from the distance that the girl was just another zombie.

_MOM!_

The girl's cries grew louder and more frightened as her body stumbled along aimlessly. It was odd seeing and hearing such contradictory things. The spirits in the barn sounded just as their bodies looked: dead. But this girl's spirit was just as impassioned as if she were still part of the living.

She watched the little girl stumble around, tripping over the uneven floor, and felt something tug at her heart at the sight. She grabbed a nearby stick, its point sharpened and its weight solid in her hands. She knew what she had to do.

_MOM! WHERE ARE YOU?_

Her hand shook as she gripped the stick tight and slowly approached the small girl. It noticed her and made jerky movements towards her. The face she made clearly expressed her hunger but the fear in her voice made Beth's heart clench.

_MOM! HELP ME, PLEASE!_

Finding herself unable to bear the overwhelming terror she heard in the girl's cries, she did what she hadn't done with the zombie spirits in the barn. She spoke to her.

"Hey," She spoke softly, feet planted firmly despite the steady approach of the young girl. "You lost your mom?" The zombie lurched and then stopped. The voice was silent.

_Yes_, she finally whispered.

Beth lowered the hand that carried the stick.

"I'm sorry. I know that must be scary for you." The girl seemed to regain her focus and stumbled towards her, teeth snapping out to bite her exposed flesh. Beth calmly walked backwards, eyes trained on her unsteady approach.

_I just want my mom_, the girl said morosely as her pale, dead hands reached out to grasp her. Beth had to fight the knee jerk reaction of reaching back and grabbing her hand. This wasn't just some little girl who got lost, she reminded herself. This was a zombie.

Nerve resolved at those words, she hefted the stick high in the air, eyes focused intently on the girl's face.

"And you will see your mom again one day," She said soothingly and brought the stick down to plunge into the girl's brain.

Something barreled into her hard before the pointed tip could make contact.

"Beth!" Someone screamed. Blinking up, she saw that it was Maggie.

"Beth, why did you—" Beth turned and threw up on the floor, the acrid taste burning the back of her mouth. Her sister scrambled to her feet and quickly turned Beth while gathering her hair.

"Sorry," Beth murmured between dry heaving.

Her sister was silent.

There was a crunch of grass beneath feet and the dragging and rasping of a walker.

"She okay?" She heard someone ask worriedly. Looking up she saw Otis, hands wrapped around a catchpole that was looped firmly around the girl's neck.

_STOP! MOM!_

Beth's vision wavered and she was surprised to realize she was crying. Maggie's face crumpled at the sight of her sister's tears and quickly gathered her up into her arms.

"It's okay, Beth. It's okay. She's going to get better. They all are."

And Beth didn't need her sight to know that Maggie was lying.

.

.

.

"Do you want to talk about last night?"

Beth crumpled and burrowed further into her bed. Her father sighed and ran a hand over the crown of her head.

"Beth, talk to me."

She clenched her teeth and shook her head. If she talked, if she said anything, she knew that her father would be crushed by her words.

She heard something rattle and the unscrewing of a cap. Peering out she saw her father place two pills on her desk along with a glass of water. He looked down, caught her eye, and gave her a look that dipped with disappointment.

"Don't forget to take your medicine today," He said before petting her hair softly.

Beth waited till he left the room before looking to her desk, the prescription bottle making her mouth curl into a frown. Clozapine.

She took a sip from her water before tossing the pills out her window.

She wasn't sick.

.

.

.

Beth stayed in her room the rest of the morning, never once leaving her perch on the ledge of her window. Patricia and Jimmy came to coax her out but she ignored them as she stared listlessly at the green pasture and the barn in the distance.

The black aura rose and roiled higher and higher like an uncontrolled flame. Beth knew the others couldn't see it but she had to wonder how they couldn't feel the dark, malevolent chill when they passed by.

A flash of an aura and she looked down to see Maggie sitting at the fence. She cast her a look full of pity and Beth felt her mouth pinch at the sight. She looked back out to the pasture, gaze landing at the edge of the clearing where the tree's thickened and grew dense. Sometimes, if she focused hard enough, she could extend her vision past her property limit, to the woods, and spot out the auras of the dead.

Each day her range of vision expanded just a little bit more, grew a little more sensitive until she was able to pick up the aura's of even the smallest woodland creatures.

She stretched her senses to their limits and was startled when instead of picking up on an animal or zombie, she picked out three human life forms, a fourth trailing at the back.

She watched as it approached the clearing at an alarming rate and felt her breath catch as a man shot through the woods, a small body clutched in his arms. Another man sprinted a little behind him.

Beth could just make out as a panting Otis finally broke through the tree lining, the second man reaching back to tug hard on his arm. The flash of anger and hate ran through the man brightly and Beth felt her own anger rise at the way he was man handling Otis.

"Maggie!" She yelled, catching the older girl's attention. She pointed out towards the clearing. Her sister focused, pulled out her binoculars, and alerted her father to the newcomer's.

"Dad!"

She left her room and dashed downstairs where she saw the rest gather to confront the stranger's. Jimmy grabbed a baseball bat before he exited and she followed behind him.

The man rushed to them, a small boy bleeding out in his arms.

"Was he bit?" Her father asked, not one to beat around the bush.

There was a flare of fear with a small speck of anger at the center of the man's aura.

The man shook his head, "Shot. By your man."

"Otis?" Her father asked, surprised.

"He said find Hershel. Is that you?" Her father walked down the porch just as the man jogged the final distance and nodded his head.

The man's face finally crumpled, words breaking to a near sob.

"Help me. Help my boy." He pleaded desperately, arms clutched tight around his son small frame.

"Get him in the house," Her father commanded and they rushed into the house with a flurry of movement. The man laid his son down on the guest bed as she, Maggie, and Patricia gathered all the supplies her father listed out.

"Is he alive?" She heard the man ask her father. "Is he alive?"

Beth looked up from where she was grabbing towels and glanced to Carl's head. The light over his head shone white with life.

"Your name?" Her father finally asked the stranger.

"I'm Rick. I-I I'm Rick," He stuttered out face turning ashen as the shock of the situation finally hit him. His aura became a whitewashed blur and she knew that he was definitely in shock.

He stumbled his way to the front porch and she could see him talk to Otis and his friend. Otis' aura was full of guilt while his friends' was a confusing blend of anger, jealousy, fear, and underneath all of that, love. He reached out to wipe Rick's face and that was when a surge of overwhelming grief erupted in Rick.

She shut her aura sight down and retreated back to the guest room.

.

.

.

Lori was a frenzied bundle of anger and fear so prominent that Beth didn't need her aura sight to see it. She broke down at the sight of her small son wrapped in bandages and looking more dead than alive.

Her anger and anxiety carried on through her talk with Beth's father and Beth headed out to the front porch as the tension in the room grew thicker. She sat there, eyes riveted to the barn, and listened to the voices of the dead.

_Kill me_

_Kill me_

_Beth_

Their cries blended together until they became an incomprehensible blur of hisses and rasps and Beth stared unblinkingly at the barn doors.

"Beth."

Startled, she turned and saw Maggie. Her lips were pinched in a tight expression, eyes trailing to the barn before back to her.

"Beth, you should go inside now. It's starting to get late."

Beth turned back to the barn one last time before nodding her head.

She passed through the threshold, lingering at the foot of the steps before continuing past the hushed voices of Rick and his wife. She sat in her room, unable to sleep as the voices continued to beg her softly for their end.

_Kill me_

_Kill me_

_Beth_

She let out a shuddering breath and pressed her pillow against her face. She stayed that way for hours, long after she heard the voices of two new comer's and cries of Carl. She stayed that way right up until she heard the familiar rumble of Otis' truck and the slam of the front door.

A minute might've passed before she heard the same door be ripped open and the loud sobs of Maggie. She stepped out of her room just as she saw Shane ascend the stairs. She took one look at him, saw the guilt and shame on his face and just _knew_.

Her eyes were hard as she locked onto his face.

"I know what happened," She hissed.

A sharp spike of paranoia and then forced calm before, "I don't know what you're talking about."

Beth clenched her jaw and stepped back into her room, shutting the door hard. She pressed her forehead against the wood and felt her eyes blur over.

_Kill me_

_Kill me_

_Beth_

And Beth thought that it was just about time to finally listen to the voices and take that plunge over the edge.

* * *

*Okay, so Daryl found that house where Sophia was supposedly holing up in a day or two after their initial search. But everyone claimed that Otis must've found Sophia and took her to the barn. Which means Sophia either died and was found by Otis before the group even made it to the Greene's (as Otis left with Shane to get medical supplies and died) or someone lied and put her in the barn after Rick's group made it there. So yeah, I screwed with the timeline because the original one made no sense. The group was in the woods a whole day before Otis stumbled onto Rick, Shane, and Carl. Sophia therefore died the night prior where Beth, Maggie, and Otis found her.

I like crazy Beth. She get's shit going. I can't wait for her resurrection in 5B (#TeamDelusional).

And to all the people who say that Beth and Daryl weren't ever a thing I just want to say that even though it was never stated, it was definitely felt. I watched the MSF with my mom, who just watched a bit of season 5, and this was her response to the ending.

"Aww, I wonder if he loved her. It looked like he did."

"He _did._" Me, all choked up with tears.

"Aww, poor—what was his name?"

"Daryl."

"Poor Daryl. That was to be his wife in the zombie apocalypse. Now he really is stuck with that old lady."

So, yeah. Bethyl.


End file.
